Chapter 59
Susan reached
for Commander Strathmore’s hand as he helped her up the ladder onto the Crypto floor. The image of Phil Chartrukian lying broken on the generators was burned
into her mind. The thought
of Hale hiding in the bowels
of Crypto had left her dizzy. The truth was inescapable–Hale had pushed Chartrukian.
Susan stumbled
past the shadow
of TRANSLTR back toward
Crypto’s main exit–the door she’d come through hours earlier. Her frantic
punching on the unlit keypad did nothing to move the huge portal. She was trapped; Crypto was a prison. The dome sat like a satellite, 109 yards away from the main NSA structure, accessible only through the main portal. Since Crypto made its own power,
the switchboard probably didn’t even
know they were in trouble.
“The main
power’s out,” Strathmore said, arriving behind
her. “We’re on aux.”
The backup power supply in Crypto was designed
so that TRANSLTR
and its cooling systems
took precedence over all
other systems, including
lights and doorways.
That way an untimely
power outage would not interrupt
TRANSLTR during
an important run. It also meant TRANSLTR would never run without
its freon cooling system; in an uncooled
enclosure, the heat generated
by three million
processors would rise to treacherous levels–perhaps even igniting
the silicon chips and resulting in a fiery meltdown. It was
an image
no one dared consider.
Susan fought to get her bearings. Her thoughts
were consumed by the single image of the Sys-Sec on the generators. She stabbed
at the keypad again. Still no response.
“Abort the run!” she demanded. Telling
TRANSLTR to stop searching
for the Digital Fortress pass-key
would shut down its circuits
and free up enough backup power to get the doors working again.
“Easy, Susan,”
Strathmore said, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder.
The commander’s reassuring touch lifted Susan from her daze. She suddenly remembered why she had been
going to get him. She wheeled,
“Commander! Greg Hale is
North Dakota!”
There was a seemingly
endless beat of silence
in the dark. Finally
Strathmore replied. His voice
sounded more confused
than shocked. “What are you
talking about?”
“Hale…” Susan whispered. “He’s North Dakota.”
There was more silence
as Strathmore pondered
Susan’s words. “The tracer?”
He seemed confused.
“It
fingered Hale?”
“The tracer isn’t back yet.
Hale aborted it!”
Susan went on to explain how Hale had stopped
her tracer and how she’d found E-mail from Tankado
in Hale’s account. Another long moment of
silence followed. Strathmore shook
his head in disbelief.
“There’s
no way Greg Hale is Tankado’s insurance! It’s absurd! Tankado would never trust Hale.”
“Commander,” she said, “Hale sank us once before–Skipjack. Tankado
trusted him.” Strathmore could not seem to find words.
“Abort TRANSLTR,” Susan begged him. “We’ve got North Dakota. Call building security.
Let’s get
out of here.”
Strathmore held up his hand requesting a
moment to think.
Susan looked nervously in the direction of the trapdoor. The opening
was just out of sight behind TRANSLTR, but the reddish glow spilled out over the black tile like fire on ice. Come on, call Security,
Commander! Abort TRANSLTR!
Get us out of here!
Suddenly Strathmore
sprang to action.
“Follow me,” he said. He
strode toward the trapdoor. “Commander!
Hale is dangerous! He–”
But Strathmore
disappeared into the dark. Susan
hurried to follow
his
silhouette. The
commander circled around
TRANSLTR and arrived over the opening
in the floor. He peered into the swirling, steaming pit. Silently
he looked around the darkened Crypto floor. Then he bent down and heaved the heavy
trapdoor. It swung in a low arc. When he let go, it slammed
shut with a deadening thud. Crypto was once again a silent, blackened cave. It appeared North Dakota was trapped.
Strathmore knelt down. He turned the heavy butterfly
lock. It spun into place. The sublevels were
sealed.
Neither he nor Susan heard the
faint steps in the direction of Node 3.
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